A Talented Squib
by BetweenTheSeaAndStars
Summary: In the future a new Dark Lord rises. Melpomene is a Squib with Talent's, which they have learned 200 years in the future is a way squibs have very specific if often useless magic. She becomes a tool by the portrait of Albus to be sent back in time, and now her use fulfilled must adapt to a world that sees her as Less Than with no direction. Freedom can be scary when it's new.
1. Chapter 1

AN:

I blame the fact I've read over 13 Harry Potter fanfictions this week when I was too sick to type. Dang it. Anyways decided to mess with the whole time travel part. Carapace Chapter 2 is almost done, Ghost And the Obviously Crazy Child 9 is getting really long and I haven't figured out where to end the current chapter, it's over 11 pages already and going so at least I'm not slacking.

I've not decided how far back this shall go yet, feel free to review or PM me with opinions. General HP, Mauraders era..what do you wish to see? Curious...

()()()()()()

The wars did not end with Voldemort.

They Began.

Twenty years later everyone was complacent after the Boy-who-lived-again had settled in, his family had even gotten through Hogwarts for the most part. Everything seemed to be going well. Until the Dark Lord over the Water in the United States acted up and since that one had grown up in the muggle world during the era of computers and rapid technology actually took over and swept in while the various countries were up in arms over different terrorist groups around the world paired with natural disasters. What was one or two more seeming horrible events that couldn't be explained during that time?

It turned out the Dark Lord Faust had gotten his education half in Beauxbaton's summer program and half in the States own school in Salem. Now most every school outside the one in Brazil could claim they'd spawned a Dark Lord and Brazil really wasn't that sort of early schooling system.

He'd used the clever muggle system to spread out his followers and 'force' acclimatization. An utterly ruthless abolishment of blood purity standards, the introduction of Dark Arts as just being another form of magic and the truly heinous spells being the Blackest of Arte's now as they were formally called and heavily controlled by only the highest of medical and research staff for 'The public's protection'. Introduction of many 'Pagan Holiday's' that were entirely out of place as traditionally such worship and holidays were tied to the land of the place. Celtic holidays had no business being on American soil, those lands had numerous native traditions and while the blood of those people may call for observation of their own ancestor worship it didn't fit otherwise. Especially in countries which were perhaps more Norse, or Mayan, or the many hundreds of other cultures that existed out there. Squib's were forced into breeding programs to try and bring back the 'lost lines', dangerous creatures were given equal rights and it soon became non politically correct to begrudge them. The entire thing was a dream on the surface.

Sadly, like almost all social economic reforms what should have made sense and been for the 'greater good' was highly corrupt and self serving. Not all of the creatures were good after all. Most werewolves were foul and twisted, vicious and bloodthirsty. Most vampires saw humans only as cattle and the obsession that had spawned in the nineties of the 'beautiful beaux' style vampire had only made their work easier. Centaurs were wise and tied up in their prophecies but they also tended to lose control of their tempers and much like their ancient Greek an Roman ancestors, rape and slaughter at will. The lists went on forever.

Several new unforgivables were formed, numerous laws passed and right under the Muggle's noses the latest Wizarding War came in on a whisper everyone welcomed without seeing the danger. It had been an extremely sensible seeming and joyful start. What the reality became was a magically twisted version of the classic 1984 novel only focused on magicals. In the end it took little to entirely wipe out the muggles save for the promising minds who would be used for fresh 'blood' in breeding. There were more of them, but EMP's had long been tested as a viable threat to most societies. Growing up Muggle it was easy for Lord Faust Jones (and unlike many he had no shame about his name and origins but Lord Jones didn't sound right to the populace) to simply slam enchantment's in large numbers down on key areas around the countries to obliterate the electrical grid. Everyone was so dependent on technology that it made taking over simple. Most people didn't know how to get by without electricity, cars (as most had microchips or computers running things since the early 2000's) , food transport. The list went on.

Local government couldn't even contact it's people.

A few well prepared groups managed, but in time they were all tracked down and either put into slave camps or assimilated. After one hundred years people didn't even really remember 'before'.

Squibs were highly prized, in a disturbing twist of fate. They couldn't actually use proper magic to be a threat but they could brew potions, utilize magic artifacts where muggles couldn't. They carried magic in their genes and when matched with a better bloodline produced the most astoundingly powerful wizards and witches. In time it became realized Squibs accessed a different type of Magic and it was referred to as a Talent which was always passed on if the offspring was also a squib but lost otherwise. A good squib became like a Veyron car in the old days, exquisite performance tools of only the utmost luxury. Even pathetic twisted squibs were worth entire family fortunes and any family that found themselves with one could turn them over to the Dark Empire's Enforcer's and receive acclaim and wealth. Squibs that had Talent and procreated with another Talented would not have a new Talent but rather the Talents of both parents in turn, and sometimes lesser talents. There were entire groups set up to match Squibs and their Talents to try and breed new Talents.

This was the world I was born in.

It was hell.

If you didn't guess, I'm a squib. I have the supreme misfortune of being born to two squib parents who are both beautiful and Highly talented. An entire lineage that goes back to before the 'Enlightened Period'. My father is a blacksmith, my mother is a potions expert. Not a Mistress of course, because she can't brew the ones that do require magic assimilation assistance or spells added to them in brewing. My father's weapons are sympathetic to the core of a magic user and many choose them these days over a wand. Both of my parents are personally contracted and owned by the Dark Lord Faust's left hand. That's the hand no one acknowledges exists publicly.

It's a bad thing.

This means from birth I was raised in the Dark Court. I am a squib and I know this, but as some day I will either be matched to another squib of Talent (we call it that since we aren't magical but we have specific skills) or a Wizard of a bloodline that needs an influx...well, I wish I could say I'd been ignored.

Both my parents are gorgeous. My father is over six feet, muscular, chiseled features with dark blonde hair and blue eyes. My mother is barely five and a half feet and though she's built more like a tomboy she's a face that were she non magical in the old days would have landed her on magazine covers. They made me.

I'm happiest either with books on history or mythology from old or paints, one feeds the other. What I learn turns into my art and my art is my base. Base talent is always clumsy and awkward and not considered a very good Talent but it's what we do to think. I can trap stories and memories and emotions in my sketches and paintings that later on just need a simple influx of magic to become enchanted. My grandparents used this. My father uses it to help sketch out new smithing ideas before he starts and my mother to plan her potions. It's actually a very common Base though more common is using words to think. My parents have been teaching me both their Talent's since I was able to hold my head up and while I haven't' the muscle for my father's craft if I wasn't Talented I can still hammer and shape knives and jewelry. I prefer pour molding, and where he works with metals I prefer stones and glass when I craft, or simple wood as it keeps me from revealing my depth of skill. Attention isn't good after all, and I often hide the expanse of my Talent even from my family... I like sharp pointy objects though so I love learning to fold the metal. It's when my Squib magic Talent I got from him comes into play. Metal wants to move for me, it wants to twist and bend and obey. I don't _need_ muscle to shape it. Just lots of fire and time and the right materials. We keep that quiet though because it's a high level of Talent that isn't normal.

And my Sire has no idea how much further I hide from him.

My parent's don't really want to let that be found out. Especially because I also got mother's.

Yes. Magic Talents from both. It runs in the blood now, I have the family Base from both sides, and I've been experimenting with mixing potions and smithing. Most squibs have a few talents these days, even Metamorphagus is considered a Talent since enough Squibs have it but can't cast spells. All Squibs of good breeding have at least a score of Talent's these days but we don't think about most. The important ones are either the Rare or the High talent's. Those get you matched and observed.

My Base is pretty high though, to the point that even if I can't paint photorealism (that means I can't do portraits) I'm kept busy enough creating stories about our "Saviour Faust'' for the little ones. I hate it.

The only blessing is I'm often sent to travel to many locations, to sketch places and be told stories of the "Great Lord and Saviour of All Majick Faust'' to put into stories. There are sadly, at least a dozen to two dozen of us that do this. Even the muggle's have children raised on this now. Pretty moving picture books that tell of his grand deeds to bring magic to the magicless and modern political correctness and social reform to the barbaric lost in time magic world. Every muggle hopes to be found a long lost squib or muggleborn or have the potential to be chosen for their minds to mingle with the magicals. No one ever wonders about _how_ Faust may have really come to power.

1984\. Seriously.

The very fact I've read that book and own a copy by the way, even in an era where most things are electronic as they found a way around magic impeding it..is a death sentence.

I read it regularly. It's missing pages, it's still priceless. Without that book, I may have never started to think. I may have never began to wonder. I may have just accepted my _number and Ranking_ and abandoned any hope of individuality after puberty. That was the usual. I can't tell you my parent's names because they didn't have them. They called each other pet names or usually "3920b" and "3082p". How's that for romantic? I called them Parental Units or Egg Donor or Sperm Donor, or Dam and Sire. Mother, father, all those terms were considered to be..non politically correct. You _can_ have a partner of the same gender and not be judged unless they wish you for breeding. Even then two matched couples can form if you have a kind overseer of your matching and often double partnerships and raising of the spawn occurs. My situation was like that once. My Dam and my Dam2 were in love. My Sire and Dam2's Match were both like my Sire's, and I grew up content with my cousins. We had similar lesser and Base Talent's. Neither of my Sire's were drawn to the other but they apparently were hardly upset that the Dam's were...my eldest cousin would laugh and say it wasn't anything to think too hard on, while being bright red.

They were all killed.

They tried to flee.

My Sire and My Dam never spoke of them. I found another Talent that day, as I watched the public execution (they were always public, always mandatory to attend..I had seen too many..) It struck me again, not for the first time how despite being so highly valued they were just killed off en masse and disposed of like trash rather then a luxury.

Squibs may be the shiny toy, but we had no real value as _people_.

It was as I watched my older ''cousin'' whom I sometimes daydreamed of being matched with, all brown tousled hair and serious eyes and smiles..as he had the injection punched into his spinal cord and just slumped, as if asleep _see how merciful to those who shun his greatness the orders of Great Saviour of the Dark Lord Faust's rule is?_ Instantly dead. It was so..anticlimatic. So peaceful. So easy to just accept as it was almost bloodless and indeed seemingly merciful.

It wasn't.

I _knew_ because my Dam had shown me how to make the concoction. It would eat at them, destroy them from the inside but be a paralytic and freeze them from moving or making a sound. They'd suffer for hours.

That was when my other thought snapped into place. When my heart broke knowing it may have even been _my own Dam or Me_ that made the injection torturing my family.

My heart broke.

My mouth opened, and something else poured forth. I didn't know the words and I didn't care, my New Talent rushed forward and the most heart breaking song of loss came out. Those around me fell silent, my voice was untrained, I'd never been able to carry a tune or even halfway hit the correct pitch before. At this moment though I was Melpomene, I was the muse of tragedy. She fell through my veins and burned my soul. Tears fell from my eyes but as my words were making no sense, in no language _tongues I was speaking no, singing in tongues!_ It didn't matter. I would not be felled for this. The tones were pure and drew gasps and awe around me as my Talent manifested, potent and viscous and tangible to all of us.

As no one knew what I sang, and the fact they were moved to tears could just as well be interpreted as devotion to the Great Saviour, I was praised rather then sent to join my family.

After all any occasion that would bring about a New Talent in a blood line was a good one as far as our government was concerned. I was 4098u. In my heart though, ever after, I was Melpomene. I remembered in my readings of the great Greek Mythos she had once been only the muse of singing and became the muse of Tragedy. It was the opposite though, my Tragedy brought forth my singing.

It didn't take long until I was exploring the museums usually kept only to the most elite of Wizarding society with the blessing of my..Patron and Owner, because the best way to nourish a Talent was to feed it. With any Talent that manifested of the Arts, one needed to immerse into the Arts. I'd been given food charms and a blanket as well as writing supplies and told to return to the front gate if I needed anything or I would be fetched in a month, and after I had best be inspired as I would be presented to the Great Saviour to amuse him with my voice.

Apparently though there were singing Talent's, there were no others like mine that had forced those around me to be emotionally moved to tears.

Having an entirely new Talent was a terrifying thrust into the spotlight I had never wanted.

A few days into my exploration I came to the portraits. Ancient, almost 200 years old, these paintings had been last seen by so few who were currently alive even when placed in the museum originally.

"Hello there, my dear girl.."

I found no words. The magic in this portrait _poured_ and _undulated_. It was joyful, solemn, serious, regretful. I _felt_ this painting. There was a phoenix that glittered in and out of the frame at times, or so I assumed the flicker of fire was. I knew this man, we all did. Stories of the Great Ones were still shared after all, the Great Ones were dead and no threat to the Great Saviour. I sat on the floor by the portrait, curled up in my simple but warm gray uniform blanket.

"...Hello.." My voice was filled with awe and I just blinked, so many times. "Albus Dumbledore..the great redeemer.."

"Oh, is that what I am known by now?" Albus blinked at me in surprise. "Redeemer?"

"Yes, of course. You were why Grindlewald showed loyalty in the end against Voldemort and didn't betray you..you were whom guided the great Order of the Phoenix and Harry Potter..you had a hand in helping so many.."

"I..failed..many too my dear.." Albus whispered. "I am just a man, I was at least, and I had faults..sometimes I forgot people were people with their own precious lives and hearts..though I tried to remember.."

"My..grandparents had grandparents who used to quote an old television series..The needs of the Many outweigh the needs of the one.."

"It's a horrible choice still.."

"And all the greater the one who can make it and weep for it."

Albus paused, he looked at me and I swear though it was just an enchanted portrait I felt every inch of the power there. The rich heady taste of magic all around me..

"Who are you dear girl?"

"40.."

"no. No.." Albus sighed, cutting off my reciting of my name and rank. U. I was young and Unmatched after all. "Your name."

"we don't use them for Squibs.."

Albus looked stunned as he looked at me. "Dear girl I can _feel_ and _see_ the magic about you.."

"Oh that. That's just my Talents."

"Talents?"

"Squibs have access to our magic in a different way, Great One. We can't use wands or cast spells but we have Talents. Usually they pass on to our children if we Match with another squib. If we are Matched to a Wizard it generally produces much more powerful children or reawakens talents in their bloodline, but the Squib talent's aren't passed on. We're considered like..the Abraxan's or similar prized animals in your day."

Albus frowned and gave a faint shiver, visibly upset. "And ..you are married then?" I had the feeling from how he said it that he'd gleaned far more then I told him.

"Of course not, we're just Squibs. A few may become mistress or lover on the side for procreational purposes but true marriage is only for Muggle to Muggle or Wizard and Witch..though they'll pair off their own gender if there's a Squib for the magical's to procreate with and they desire to.."

"You.."

"I don't _like_ it.." I don't know why I said it, but my confession came out in a soft painful whisper. Albus met my eyes, his own light blue to mine, his twinkling softly.

"What are your..talents..dear girl?"

"My family Base Talent is to draw and paint things, if someone with magic activates it then it works like a clumsy version of your portrait..a lot more can be stored and shown than with a regular magical drawing. Usually we use these to illustrate points or stories. My Sire's talent is in forging weapons and some he's taught to me.." I fidgeted, something about his eyes made me confess. "I'm better then I let even my Sire know..the metal wants to do what I want it to..I can feel it. Sometimes it folds in my hands like putty.."

"..Incredible..." Albus blinked and then nodded, smiling fondly. "Go on..is there more?"

"Ah, my Dam's talent is in potions..she's taught me. We're good enough for not being able to enchant or stasis or adjust the temperature of our cauldrons..we have so many potions we can't make but we've figured out for Squibs lots of ways since you've been gone to heal with potions that you didn't have..especially for children of magicals who can't risk their cores by taking too many of the higher level potions. My Dam and I came up with a potion that helps draw out ones talents too..Um, I think that's why I have more then the usual. I was the test subject after all."

"Usual?"

"Family Base talent's if they're the same pass on as do the parent talent's. Sometimes one or two other lesser talents pass on. It's part of why Squib Matching is such a big deal. I have the Base of Art, Crafting Weapons, Crafting Potions..and um.I think..singing.."

"What do you mean, you think?"

I paused, then thought carefully on my fear, my hopelessness, my concern. Unsure if it would work again I opened my mouth and felt myself becoming Melpomene again. The notes made no sense, they didn't need to. My voice was an instrument that had no words, just notes and tones in richness and emotion that made my eyes close and my spine straighten. The spiraling and twisting of my song started to overtake me and the pure sweet euphoria of the song became the focus. Melpomene shed her shackles, her stone encasement and regained her ancient status. Tragedy flowed into pure music and grace.

My notes were matched.

All of a sudden something was on my shoulder, a solid comfortable weight and my notes and cries were matched perfectly. The song twisted and folded around the new voice, clearer and sharper, higher, richer than my own. Melpomene burst out in joy and taunted and challenged him. I was the muse of song, the sister of poetry and art, of history and all that had been in that moment as I lost myself to the song.

When it died the pressure on my shoulder shifted and moved to my knee. As my eyes opened I gasped.

There was a phoenix on my knee...

On. My knee.

A _Phoenix_.

The last one hadn't been sighted in almost 150 years..

"Fawkes.." Albus whispered.

A trill was his answer and I did the only thing I could.

Yes darn it, I fainted.

()()()()()

I spent a lot of time with Albus Dumbledore. His phoenix was amazing company and between the two of them I found myself wishing for a better world. There was a lot of heavily philosophical talks with a number of other portraits whom would visit him and the one called Flamel in particular gave a lot of information.

It turned out there had been warning signs and things that should have triggered fail safes put up to prevent another dark lord taking over. It had probably happened too gradually. Much of the conversation went over my head but I did manage to grasp that something in the timeline was wrong, very much so.

"I only have another few days.." I whispered one night, curled up in my little nest I'd made of my over coat and blanket, the beautiful Phoenix often keeping me company and warm.

"What do you mean, Mel?" Ah, yes, Albus Dumbledore had heard my shy ramblings about how I saw myself as Melpomene and had twinkled at me before promptly using that, or the sweet Mel every time we talked. It was as if he _wished_ me to forget I was a nobody, just a New Talented Squib who had yet to be matched.

"My month is almost up."

"...I confess, I had forgotten of that.." Dumbledore sounded so regretful, though I didn't doubt for a moment he had remained aware. Nothing got by this man's portrait, and if this was just a shallow echo of the one he had been then no wonder he had made Terrible Mistakes as he always emphasized, I could feel the capitalization of the words when he said them in that tremulous voice with his eyes distant. I imagine it was like my cousins. They're parents had taken the risk, my Dam2 and Sire2 to flee with their children rather then have them ... _Focused.._ it was such a terrifying thing. Just the idea made me tremble and I heard Fawkes soft worried croon.

Gulping several times, I knew I was shaking and having a panic attack. It didn't matter, I had so carefully not thought of the word or the idea.

"Melpomene!" Albus snapped out sharply, he'd found that I responded best to being talked to straightforward rather then coy games and tones. I think for some reason, he was relieved by that.

"S..sorry..I just.."

"Take a deep breath my girl, and another. Good, good. Now..what has you so panicked?"

I felt my lungs chill and my whole body shudder. Leaning into the solid warmth of Fawkes he took his cue and began a soft low melody that all but forced my body to ease. Looking up into the twinkling blue eyes as the Headmaster set aside his spectacles to gaze at me I felt a slight lightening of my heart that had nothing to do with the ethereal music. If anyone could understand, and offer solution or sympathy, it was the Great Redeemer. More, the man who faced his demons and faults that resided behind, lingering in paint and magic on canvas here with a little squib girl not even into her mid teens yet.

"There's..have you heard of ..from the other portraits.." I paused and closed my eyes. I wasn't searching for courage I was hoping for advice. "..when a Squib is Focused?"

There was a long heavy silence. The portraits around, I had later learned all from the century that Albus Dumbledore was, seemed to still in fright. Dumbledore for once, seemed clueless and looked from portrait to portrait. "I fear that I do not, and from my once colleagues utter and complete lack of sound..I do not like the sound of this. Will you fill me in child, or should I ask one of them?"

"They cannot speak of it, Albus." The voice was rich and low, melodic and seductive. I am not sure _where_ Lord Fausts' minions had located the treasure but it was the height of irony that he was included in the selection of the Second Wizarding War room of the museum. Gellert Grindelwald.

"Hallo, Grindlewald."

Gellert glanced down and gave me an amused smile, apparently I didn't annoy him very much (Albus had laughed that from him that was high praise) and he had been rather fascinated with the information on Squibs and their Talent's I had provided. As it was such a direct contrast to so many of his own theories he had often picked my brain rather ruthlessly before he would wander off. I wasn't exactly surprised they didn't have the charm to prevent his explorations on his portrait as they did so many others. Indeed, I surmised I could seek out the other Dark Lord's, Gellert had flippantly remarked they all had portraits and were even having some highly amusing debates at times. For obvious reasons I was far too scared to do so.

"Ja, Vögelchen?'' Little bird. It was his nickname for me referencing when I first sang. This man was incredibly charming and dangerous, I did love watching Albus shake his head or roll his eyes fondly. It was clear that the man behind the myth of Albus Dumbledore really had loved Gellert, and though I think the former Dark Lord of Durmstang as we called him now, was fond in return in his own way. It just was that for Gellert, his goals and power had come first.

"You know then?"

There was a huff and a flicker of his hand, careful controlled elegance that drew your attention. ''Of _course_ I know! Some of us can wander, much as Faust gloats he leaves his predecessors freedom to roam and we are fully aware of the implementaitons he has made. He likes to brag about how none of us ever realized that Squibs were useful. Upstart." He began to mutter then in annoyed German and from the blinking Albus was doing, and I think a blush, it was pretty colorful.

''Oh.''

Gellert paused then, his eyes snapping towards me. I think that I was brave enough to ask him questions, and that even at my young age being a Squib born to two Highly Talented, raised in the Dark Court, I was mentally far older then my years. The only recourse from the Court's dull restrictive socializing was studies after all.

''You, think they shall Focus you?'' It was phrased as a question but Gellert hummed, steepling his fingers together and leaning back in his ornate chair he'd apparently 'magicked' into being in Albus's frame. That it was a thing of dark luxurious beauty that far outstripped Albus's, didn't seem to do more then make his Light counterpart twinkle in amusement. Nothing the former Dark Lord did was on accident so while he made it seem a question it was a statement. ''Your voice, Vögelchen, is wondrous. Not unlike your sparkling turkey companion there.'' Fawkes didn't even bristle, it was Gellert's way to show affection for Albus and Fawkes in thin insults. I think he still couldn't admit he had such a weakness as affection, and with the familiar bond so strong in the legendary Order leader and it's namesake, caring for one naturally meant you cared for both.

''It's _unique._ " I knew I sounded like I was despairing when I said that, but I had good reason.

„"Humor an old man..Focused, Gellert?" Albus asked so softly and looked at his once opponent and ally, his in truth staunchest and most loyal of companions to the end and Gellert cut his dark eyes over to him. Eyes sharp he sighed.

''Even now you must know everything, hm Albus? Very well. To Focus a Talent in squibs referrs to corrupting and twisting their magic so that only a singular talent remains. It makes it more focused and refined, hence the phrase. It dulls the others or outright obliterates them. It is how they breed specific talents even if they crop up regularly. I'm told it's often..very painful.''

''It's why my...cousins..tried to flee..'' my voice came out soft, shaking. ''It ..I saw them..injected. I may have even brewed it with my Dam..'' I heard a muttered curse going around from all the portraits. ''It's what made my voice..um..the talent wake up. I just..''

''I have found..'' Gellert said slowly, not the sort to comfort but definitely the sort to give advice when it suited him. ''That all those who followed after me, and whom I learned from..'' Other Dark Lord's then. ''A single specific use weapon is a dramatic and delightful thing, if highly impractical. You are..fair, at your High Talent's?''

''I'm..I kept most of my skill hidden. I'm mother's level at my age with potions. I make them best by instinct rather then a recipe like most of us Squibs who don't have proper magic to imbue. My metal work though..I have only ever shown half my skill..''

Gellert's eyes and Albus were both sharp now as they stared at me. Two incredible powerful Wizards who had almost made all of Europe their chess match had their undivided attention focused on my slim form. This was only a fraction of who they had been. Great stars but their attention and the mere mimicry of their former power when combined made something in me tremble. Had they ever stayed together as a force,my world now would doubtless not exist. Nothing would have stood against them.

''Show me, now.'' Gellert's voice was a dark order, fire warmed velvet over iron. I didn't hesitate and took out my raw supplies from a bag specifically rune made just for me. All Talented had one, so they could keep their supplies on them at all times. It would actually fuse to my skin as a series of runes but I hated to do that. My markings already present that ensured I stayed a squib and declared my name and current ranking already did that.

I licked my dry lips but took out iron, it was ugly and raw, just a twisted series of badly made items that I got. I preferred scraps. They were stubborn and hadn't done what someone else wanted, so playing with them always made me smile as if I won some arguement.

I pushed my finger against the iron, feeling the comfortable warmth of my Talent manifest. It covered me like a warm blanket against my skin, a soft cool breeze that played along my soul. I felt my throat moving as I hummed, a new unavoidable and undesireable side effect to my singing. The metal moved. I soaked it, saturated utterly in my Talent, my magic and my core that permated it so that with twists and stretching, smoothing of my fingers and careful nudging with no more then my nails it began. My thoughts and will directed the shaping but my hands crafted and played as an instrument. Soft whispering song began to slip away from my lips and it couldn't be helped. I _loved_ working with metal and it showed.

Slowly the euphoria faded, and the last note died off as my hands held up to Albus and Gellert, unintentionally like an offering to the Light and Dark Lord of times past. There was no sound, save for Fawkes fidgeting and my breathing.

And cupped in my hands, what was once iron, was now highly polished metal though it remained a deep blackened iron from the misfire mistake that had once made it a scrap, a dark rendition of fawkes in flight, beak opened in song. Intricate to the last feather.

''I'm..flattered..'' Gellert of course saw what I had done. I purposefully chose a dark metal to create what was long thought of as Albus's symbol.

''It's a pity we can't bring it in with us..'' Albus smiled at me fondly. I think he also appreciated the symbolism. To me, they just always were told as a part of the other. I set it down infront of their frames and smiled.

''It's ...a powerful skill. And you sang, Vögelchen. You sang when doing it. This you must do when you are presented. You show that at least it is the two that go together, you find a way to mention your potions can help treat and form better the metal ideas you have. You mention you _need_ to sketch to first plan your ideas. They will not Focus when it is in the blending of your Artes that I think is your destiny..'' Gellert was a passionate man, and above all he loved power and magic and I was showing him reverence with what smatterings I had of mine. He nodded then, and leaned back, done with me. Instead he started to talk about something else with Albus, in German, clearly baiting him. He'd given a lowly squib advice from one Dark Lord to how he'd percieved another.

I left the statue and went to wander in another room.

It was probably a good thing that the living Gellert would have ignored or killed me, because I could completely see his appeal. And unlike the famed 'Voldemort' he had not lost his intelligence or sanity, but I hoped partly, that being around Albus and Gellert for a month would have helped me resist the famed charisma of Lord Faust.

()()()()()

''You leave, tomorrow.'' Albus regarded me, helping Fawkes with his feathers and grooming him best I could on his back with my fingers. I just nodded. After a short time Albus continued. ''You will of course, never return. Not with such gifts. They'll likely send you to other places and museums..oh don't frown dear girl..'' Albus trailed off and stayed silent a long time in thought before he sighed. ''You are..close to anyone?''

''Only to those in this room..and Gellert if he's off visiting..''

''Well I am Glad you think of me.'' Gellert chuckled from his own portrait, he'd long since stopped snapping at me for using his name so familiarly.

''My dear, I am in ..two other rooms.'' Albus began softly. ''In the collection of Wizarding Heros and the Third War room..in both, there is someone I wronged.''

''Two people, Albus.''

''One didn't make it into the Hero room, Gellert.''

Gellert shrugged, going back to playing with his hair. He was a rediculously vain man.

''You wish me to go?'' I tilted my head at Albus, curious where this was going.

''In a sense. More, I wish to have Fawkes escort you some When.''

I gaped, then swallowed. Time travel was a well documented fact and ruthlessly controlled by the Un's. The Unspeakable's had ventured out into the Unknowables, and the Unavoidable as well. The Unknowable's were the ones who handled memories and mental arts, the Unspeakables still were the researchers and the Unavoidable's were Fausts private and utterly ruthless enforcer's. They had proven you could go back more then an hour but only up to a year so far, and it was strictly controlled.

''You have a plan.'' I accused softly, and I heard Gellert laughing uproar.

'' Vögelchen knows you well!'' He chortled a while more before entering the portrait besides Albus, a sharp glare sending the frames proper owner scattering. ''It is a good plan though. Flamel, french idiot that he is..'' Gellert muttered, I didn't know what the two had gotten into a fight over in the last few centuries but apparently the feud was still going strong. ''Is right. The Time is wrong. I specifically helped create the intricate rune arrays and calculations they made for the precauctions. Even in my cell..'' he glared at Albus for that and as always, Albus looked abashed. ''You will make certain _whenever_ she goes, I am not to stay in it. You had other methods, Albus.''

''of course..of course..and I should have used them..'' Albus sighed and then smiled down again. ''I do. It would not work I had thought once. I spent...decades..wishing to go back in time and undo..our fight. I couldn't choose an event and it must be only _once_ used. It's a difficult task but I could never figure out the calculations because of what it would do to ones magic. Until you came a month ago and mentioned Squibs and Talents. I seem to recall telling you I could _see_ your magic. You have a great deal of it, that it is furrowed only in a few directions, which as Gellert has pointed out before all seem to wish to interplay together..means there is still more then a slight amount that could be..utilized.''

''You mean how I can use items others have crafted and simply activate the latent spells?'' I traced my fingers along the runes I knew lay twined around my ankle. Simple spells, I had a few on my hands and nails even for things like Lumos and Nox, there was the emergency red sparks one as well. Standard and applied fresh before my fourth birthday once they'd tested and assured I was a Squib.

''Exactly. You will be the channel and the power fueling the spell but needn't worry about damage to your core's channels because you don't have or use them as a regular witch or wizard would. Fawke's, you see my dear girl, is the key. Fawkes is not restricted by Where and When, but cannot take another save but once. It is why I couldn't experiment with it..''

''What will it cost Fawkes?" I asked concerned, my hand tracing the beautiful flames of Fawke's feathers. The phoenix crooned at me in delight over my consideration.

''His life.''

Gellert observed silently the utter stillness that overcame the room at his words. I couldn't move, and his dark eyes latched onto mine, merciless and calculating. ''It will cost his life Vögelchen, it will in a way take yours as well. You will be going back to When a squib was thought less then a muggle, you will be considered vile and useless. You will have a land that loathes you and your kind, you will not have even the basic consideration you do here, as a pampered pet though you'd have it. But this time is wrong. Albus prattled on for hours about how we could not ask you to do this. So I am not asking. Vögelchen you WILL do this because I am ordering you to. I deserved better then to languish in a tower.''

Funny how Gellert could manage to avoid saying all the other things. He hid it easily, and I felt my stomach tie up.

''And..When..there?''

''Fawkes will take you to Fawkes so to speak my dear girl, and thus to me. After that..depending on When it is, you'll be under my care. You won't be able to tell me of course, to preserve the future all key information is locked away in the spell crafting. It was to prevent accidents and all..though most information will be easily side stepped and utilized. The key will be in Fawkes returning to me I will have an overlay from him of what to avoid and expect. In a way you are not the changer of the time, dear girl, you are just the means to get Fawkes to me so that I can do something about it.''

Perhaps someone else would have felt slighted, I only felt relief. I paused letting my mind mull over the idea. He said spell so since he clearly could not cast it and I was not a witch it must be runic, which meant Fawkes coming into contact with the spell would activate it. I was to be the battery essentially, the vehicle but it would be fawkes inputting the directions. I licked my lips again and looked up. I was utterly terrified at the idea but I knew without a doubt otherwise my best bet was to impress with my talents to Dark Lord Faust, as Gellert had advised, and wait for whichever wizard or squib I was matched with. My life would be an unceasing motony of using my Talent's for anyone but myself and providing a brood until I was bred out, or disposed of unless my singing was worth keeping me around until old age.

I would be lucky if my cage was larger then a room and my actions not always directed for me.

Or I could dive into the unknown, be a tool for a man who openly admitted that though he was sorry he had to make such manipulations and mistakes in the past that Albus Dumbledore still made them, and provide him via his familiar some information or senses of what needed to be done that this future I was in would never exist. They did not assure me it would make a better world, perhaps Albus would have tried but Gellert wouldn't have allowed it.

''I don't suppose you'd tell me where to find your portrait when it's painted?'' I asked instead, looking up at Gellert. The Dark Lord of Durmstang roared his laughter, delighted.

'' Vögelchen..if you ever can make it to my spire, I'd be glad to pry apart your mind for each and every scrap of information that the spell doesn't block and continue to corrupt you.'' Gellert smirked, but I was under no illusions that I saw the Greatness in him, even as I knew at any point before this month had I somehow found the living man I'd be dead or destroyed without thought.

''You'd also try to kill me off.''

''Only once you cease being amusing.'' Gellert smirked at me, and I could hear Albus's disappointed sigh but he was used to the fact I was shameless in my devotion to the former Dark Lord. I had been Raised to view Faust as the Great Saviour but I acknowleged only Gellert as a true Lord of the Artes. I wouldn't follow him of course, his ideas and ideals had been..not for me. But I could say his mind and his wit were just as alluring as the call of dark magic must have been to his followers and unlike Albus Dumbledore, Gellert took joy in being so upfront with me and not needing his games. I think he was just entertained that he essentially stole away a born and bred follower to another Dark Lord because of the exact measures that had been put in place to seal our devotion from the start.

''All right then, my dear child..get out your journal and try to copy the exact appearance of the symbols I will be making with my wand, I will mirror them so you just copy as they look. I'll go slow..'' Albus said as he started making his portrait wand glow with leaving trails of soft golden light. ''The first...''

()()()()()

It took all night and most of the pre dawn hours. I went slow, methodically, so I could be certain on the very first time that I got the image correctly. I'm certain Albus or Gellert or even Nicholas, as all three men were in the portraits now having coached me through the symbols, had not forgotten my Base Talent. Each symbol I drew, each on it's own piece of paper to ensure I had it right was then copied down onto my skin. Because I lay each paper out on it's own and my talent made it where the symbols animated, exactly as when I was first shown them, I could easily trace it on my skin next. The ink had to be mixed with my blood and phoenix tears and I think all three portraits were a little surprised how casual I was about drawing my own blood.

My explanation that it was how we identified ourselves whenever we went somewhere because then we were documented and the obedience spells in places that controlled the masses would take effect..and that I didn't even blink about their use, chilled even Gellert. After all, they worked on _everyone_ and it was mandatory.

I'd stripped down to my under shorts -everything utilitarian was unisex these days- so I could actually cut the symbols in and then rub the ink after when I asked Nicholas if it wouldn't be more effective that way. Seeing all the runes on me clearly had the men wishing to ask questions, but they didn't. After all, from collar bone to knee wrist to ankle I had numerous twisting black rune forms covering me. All Squibs did. I did explain some of them as I would rest to eat or the like in between, to steady my hands before the next symbol.

''Since we can't use spells we get Rune Arrays. One that portkey's us in an emergency to a set person..'' I had to explain the Matching and Master bonds to them, even Gellert seemed troubled at that and muttered that if Voldemort had just been unfortunate enough he could have created a match bond and found himself beholden to all his Death eaters to procreate and wouldn't that have been amusing..

''And that one?''

Flammel was the most curious, I liked Nicholas a great deal and smiled as he pointed out the one over my heart.

''That's different. The collarbone and Heart arrays are proclaiming family and lineage.''

''Any special ones?'' Gellert just couldn't help his blood commentary and I found myself chuckling.

''Well almost _all_ The olde Ones were brought back. Most squibs have a number of them now. I don't know if any of mine would correspond to names you'd know, I can't read my own runes there.''

''Haven't bothered to look in a mirror?'' Nicholas teased but I just blinked a few times.

''Um, we..can't. Squibs aren't to know what we look like, or read our own runes. We aren't allowed to discuss family either..well lineage. That only becomes known if we are matched to a magical.''

''You've never..'' Nicholas pinched his nose. ''Child do you not know what you look like?''

''I can guess because of my parents and cousins, and I know my hair color because I have it kept long as any of the Court does..but no.''

''...crazy world.''

The rest of the conversation was abandoned as I went back to carving my skin, it was just barely deep and since I needed my own blood anyways it made it where mixing the ink and phoenix tears would be a lot easier to do. They'd scab over faintly but easily break back open when I rubbed it back on by hand later. Finally just as I could tell the sunrise was starting from the sky light, I was done. I'd scrubbed and almost tore a few marks in my effort to completely cover the new carvings in my skin, as faint as they were, with the three men assuring I didn't miss a location. Then I pulled my attire on, rune sealed my bags back into my skin with a flinch. It always felt like a cold heavy stone in my gut to do that, as they'd settle into my core. Luckily some last moment configuring had determined as my body was used to the bags it wouldn't alter the spell. I bundled up as best I could and wrapped the blanket around me for good measure, then nodded to Fawkes.

''When ever..literally...''

Fawkes tilted his head back then and sang, it was beautiful and I felt my tears spring forth. It was hope. I couldn't have helped myself if I tried, and I didn't. I didn't want the last sight of me in this dark twisted world by these three men, for as long as this future would last, to be of me the tiny gray clad figure they were sending off to uncertainty. I would be Melpomene. I would be Melpomene _as she was meant to be_ not what she became later to the world.

My song burst out sharp and clear and then softened into crystalline notes that melded with the ethereal and ever so much more perfect tones of Fawkes. His song became even more heartsoothing and I felt his claws clamp deep on either side of my shoulders, where my garment didn't cover. His talons pierced deep and despite the trickle of blood my song only raised higher.

Let my tragedy be put to use, Fawkes. Whenever we went, I would be grateful.

()()()()()()

The last of the tiny phoenix fire sparks glowed into the marble floor, leaving behind three silent and serious great minds of their age.

''You wouldn't think a little thing like that would be of much use, would you?'' Gellert said idly. It didn't fool either man. Shades though they were, the tiny squib child had been an eager mind and willing tool. Something that all three could value.

''I wonder, to when they shall go?''

If Albus was to have answered, perhaps with a final clue he'd managed to divine through some favor of his outlook or transcendent knowledge, it never came. Their future and everything in it with them, was no more.

To When, was the true question.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I have no idea why this is so demanding to get out. It really was meant as a what if one shot.

I shift point of view fairly often. It's just how I write. I have decided this will be a gray/light but familiar with the Dark oc. It only makes sense with how she was raised and her rather ..well..meek and easily manipulated state. At least at this point. Also there is very little information about students in general during this era so I claim Fanauthor's right to mangle and adjust things. I forget where, perhaps in all of fanfiction I noticed the Prewett brothers were twins that reminded Molly of her lost brothers when she saw her own twins. So if they seem like Gred and Forge, that is why.

()()()()()

Melpomene's entire world narrowed down to phoenix fire. Fawkes and Melpomene existed everywhere, and EveryWhen. She felt the shroud of death trail along her skin and trace her magical core which felt so strange as _she_ couldn't access it. It didn't matter. All that was there was fire, beautiful and pure with golden and white hot flames, blue and violet arches that exploded behind her eyes. The phoenix tears coursing over the rune spell she'd so recently transcribed over her flesh felt like it was burning into her cells and her bones, sealing her in a way that bubbled out of her to keep the twirling music cascading around them. She shouldn't have been able to breathe, to sing, to feel. She was fire and she existed and always did and always would. If she burned out in this star she'd become part of the next. For one glorious moment encased in phoenix magic and fire and between time, with death's hands fierce around her her song peaked. Never again, she somehow knew, would her music be so clear, so sweet. Her song for that timeless millisecond was every bit as powerful of magic as Fawkes, as the sibilant chords of Death, of all the gods and goddesses and powers that be spanning ages and worlds.

Life and death were the same, it just depended on when in the cycle you called it.

'You can't speak of that.'

The voice was cold and calm, ruthless and yet soft and welcoming. It was everything and nothing and she felt the information, the truth of all truth, sealed inside her soul but where she could take it out and wonder at it later on. Had she eyes then she would have beheld all of the wonders and horrors and gone mad, she knew this somehow. But she was fire being brought through fire, pulled by Fawkes and part of Fawkes and somehow she knew they'd always have a union now.

And then it was over.

Her body was snapping into place around her and she could feel the cells splitting and aging and dying and she was so cold by comparison and the air was so sharp and it stung and...

 _~Breathe!~_ She felt the Phoenix's urge deep within and that's exactly what she did. Softly in, gently out, feeling the feathers as Fawkes rested against her, under her arm as her body lay there limp and helpless after fueling the journey between the When's.

'I wonder if it worked..' her mind was hazy, shifting in accordance with the spell to lock away what could never be thought of again, adjusting so she couldn't speak but could know other things. It was an entire masterful reworking.

~ _We are here. When here is ..that's a..human thing.~_ Fawke's was talking to her. Somehow after the everything and nothing they had just passed through, it didn't surprise her. It wasn't words either, but a flurry of emotions and thoughts of her past memories that meshed in such a way she could intuit what he meant. A curl of joy unfolded in Melpomene as her eyes softly regarded the amazing creature.

Some things just bind you together.

~ _Indeed.~_ Fawke's sounded happy, amused. His eyes sparkled and his beak began to groom her hair where it hung loose about her face rather then artfully crafted. ~ _I will always be with you in part now. But I can't share that. ~_ There was such a feeling of regret, but somehow, perhaps the same way the information that had been so necessary to bring back for Dumbledore would pass to him...Mel felt what Fawke's meant. Her song had to remain a secret. Her union, the strange bond she held now with Fawke's couldn't be spoken of. It was absolutely imperative for her own safety. Her life would be in enough danger. Looking down at her wrist where Fawke's body rested under her arm she was surprised to see her runes had all a soft shimmer to them now. Pale against her skin it was a beautiful pale sheen against faintly tanned flesh. The scar tissue from her runes, and her new ones likely, now seemed almost opalescent in the light of Fawke's feather's.

~ _I didn't want you to feel ..unhappy. What you have sacrificed. This is my thanks, I healed them as best I could.~_ Fawke's chirped once and then blinked in an avian way _. ~You've let me come back to one of the only truly good men.~_

And after what Mel had just experienced she understood that he meant perhaps the first since Fawke's had tried to recall. Centuries of the time that circles and has no end. There was perhaps a handful, ever, she could sense, that would be worthy of Fawke's devotion. Mortal's were flawed but those who tried to overcome themselves were rare, and it seemed that constant rebirthing of one's better self was indeed cause for Fawke's loyalty. Even now that she felt she had his affection she knew that she had still been a means to an end and none of that bothered her. How could she complain when she'd been singing with Fawke's for a month before the journey? When he'd taken her on a journey she just _knew_ no one had ever been able to do before, maybe never again.

'I knew Albus was special..but for how you feel of him Fawke's.. I assume he could have been even greater?'

~ _...that's more a human concept.~_

'However I can help Fawkes..' Mel closed her eyes, she was pretty sure her only use had been getting Fawke's here.

Fawke's chuckled but stayed silent, resting. His impressions to her mind, of what he was 'saying' was getting fainter as they cooled.

'Where are we..physically? Where not when.'

An image and feeling was her answer. They were in Hogwart's. Out by the lake, not too far from the forest. It was sunrise and this was one of Fawke's favorite areas to sun himself though usually on a perch. It was a safe location, and once recovered she would walk into Hogwart's with Fawke's on her shoulder. The only suggestion of time she got was that it was summer, and anything else would wait.

They curled up to sleep. A bedraggled figure in utilitarian gray and a firebird of unquestionably magical beauty among the summer wildflowers as the sunrise peeked out.

()()()()()()

I hadn't really thought I would be of much help. I mean, really, Gellert had made that fairly clear because he actually ordered me to do this. I wasn't some long lost protege or offspring, I was just a talented squib who was in the right place and willing to do just about anything. I was fully aware they were using me and the odds of my ending up anywhere in history where squibs were as disposable as yesterday's news paper was pretty much a guarantee.

It was still the closest to freedom I had ever been.

Once Fawkes and I had rested somewhat, we made it shakily into Hogwart's. The beautiful firebird was perched on my shoulder and trilling softly. He hadn't 'spoken' to me since we had rested and somehow I just could feel it was because I had 'cooled off' since our little trip. I would likely never hear Fawkes in words again, and I could accept that.

Slowly using pressure on either right or left foot, Fawkes directed me through the ancient castle. It was so quiet and my footsteps echoed for all I was in standard slippers when we'd left. They were rather muddy at this point but dry mud. At times I thought I caught sight of ghosts or almost heard someone else. Each time Fawkes would either send me a feeling of waiting or hurrying along so we avoided everyone.

After feeling like I was most assuredly lost, we ended up before an immense gargoyle. A single note trilled from Fawkes had it sliding aside in a very loud rumble, and then I could slowly trace the spiraling stairs upwards. I was nervous, of course. There was every chance that now I had been the method to bring Fawkes back that I would just be cast aside and be forced to figure out survival despite my youth. It would be worth it though but part of me was fully aware that my hands were shaking and my breaths were shallow. I was also, exhausted and hungry from the trip.

I lifted my hand to knock, but the door was swung open.

"Ah, what have we here?" A very stern looking witch I did not know was practically glowering down at me in disapproval. Fawkes however trilled and in her startled nature at seeing him and turning back to look over her shoulder, I slipped past her and inside.

For just a brief moment there was a startled expression from whom I recognized as Dumbledore and a glimmering figure though smaller on a perch beside him.

Two ethereal voices raised perfectly and both the Fawkes I had come with and the one of Now flew towards each other in a dizzying light display. They crashed and collided and several rainbow like gleams were cast about the room. Throughout was the phoenix song I had become so accustomed to. It was incredible causing me to clamp my jaws tight as it urged me to join in with the exultant melody..

And then there was cold.

Fawkes's connection to me was gone. Or rather, severely dulled. I could still _feel_ his presence but it no longer felt to be nestled against my own heart.

I felt the ground under me as I thudded, so exhausted after everything. The loss of Fawkes though seemed more terrible and real then any of this so far. My eyes were blurry and I looked up at Dumbledore who seemed to be trying to reassure the woman 'Minerva' as he called her. I couldn't make much of it out over the roar of my own heartbeat in my ears. Slowly though Dumbledore looked from Fawkes, who shined more brilliantly then ever, to me and smiled.

"Do fetch Poppy...won't you Minerva?"

The witch had barely left when I felt magic around me as Dumbledore levitated me to the nearest armchair and then sat across, his blue eyes seemed serious even as they twinkled. "Now, I do not _know what just happened_ but I have the feeling I should be thanking you. So, tell me..who are you my dear and what I can do?"

"Melpomene.." I blinked at him sleepily, my whole mind was unguarded and I could feel little pushes and nudges at my mind but only because it was common enough to use legimancy on squibs. It was a far more common skill later in the world and most learned it. Squibs of course, were incapable.

"Oh..oh my.." He paused then and blinked. "Yes..so, seeing as I recognize the walls in areas of your mind as the spell I had helped create but was never tested so many years ago..I will try to ask few questions, you cannot answer them I presume?"

"Not many I think. I don't remember what things that probably is though."

"Wonderful, so it did work! A pity..so where did you attend school, Melpomene?"

"I was taught at home, specialized instruction based on my aptitude."

"I see.."

To be honest I don't remember most the rest of that night. I actually half suspect I was obliviated which would have only been to help me not be able to discuss what that night had been like. I spent several days in and out of the hospital and wandering around the school which was empty for the most part for summer. Even much of the staff was gone during the summer holidays. What did end up happening is that I was enrolled on a partial scholarship. Essentially my squib status would be hidden but I would only be taking specific classes, supposedly working towards a particular American degree that didn't rely on many of the common classes. As I was thirteen looking now and didn't know my precise age, I would be enrolling with the other third years. Albus had decided my birthday would be on June 21st to be the summer solstice, I had been born in the summer but we didn't exactly pay attention to the days. I had been able to meet professor Slughorn and gloss over my information and knowledge enough to place with my would be year mates in potions even though it seemed I was in many areas far ahead, but plenty of my knowledge was for squib and children only potions that didn't exist yet and I couldn't explain and in other areas I was practically in remedial potions.

Slughorn had also jumped on my offering to help prepare for his classes to earn my keep and so I would be his assistant in that class. Mostly with preparing and inventory of ingredients for lessons, the actual grading would still be up to him. I would also be cleaning the classroom in areas that couldn't be magic contaminated. It was work I was very used to where I was from and so it was more then a fair trade. It would also, as Dumbledore had lightly said in passing during one of my meetings to set up everything, give me a little more respect when inevitably my inability to perform magic got out. I was going to take History as well as I just didn't learn any of that without Lord Faust's alteration of it. Rune's was pure theory and carving, translation, but something I had vested interest in getting a better understanding of. I still didn't know what most of my markings meant after all. I would never be able to properly use rune magic, technically Fawkes had done the work in our journey and just used me to hold the energy burned out for it and the 'writing' to direct the spell.

Herbology rarely used magic. I had the same offer to the Hufflepuff head of house to assist her, and I was excited to learn plants that had died out in the centuries before my time. I met a middle aged squib named Filch who at first was hideously cold to me. I couldn't go revealing how alike we were, so I had to let it go.

It was..strange. Filch was so entirely different then what I was used to. Oh he was in a sense 'serving' the wizards and witches of the castle, that I knew. Yet, he resented them for it. I had a feeling it was a difference in my upbringing, I wasn't blind to that conditioning after all, but it made _sense_ to me! I was utterly incapable of many feats of magic. To ally and bind myself to those who were was just..common sense!

There was a formality of course, that still made me tremble. I needed to be sorted. I had a brief flicker of memory from that first night of the sorting hat dropping on my head..

" _Well, what have we here?..Hmmm..very...complex. Very tricky"_

 _The voice was rusty and smooth all at once, it echoed and pinged through my mind setting off the notification sensations of someone crawling about my thoughts and memories, my very aura. I was used to that. My master had done the same to all his staff on a regular basis. The more you were exposed to a powerful wizard's work, the more you learned how to lower your defenses to make it less unpleasant. It had the reverse effect too, we were trained ruthlessly, attacked mentally once of the age of 11, upholding tradition of when schooling would have begun back in the ancient days. We learned from repeated attacks that came without warning, if you were lucky you would be told to prepare yourself or to think of nothing. One must be able to guard the secrets of ones masters after all. It was only resisting those who controlled you, those who ranked you and held their powers coiled around your inked skin that you were expected to drop everything for. We couldn't learn llegimancy for obvious reasons, and not true occulemencey but we could learn to think of nothing. To lose ourselves in specific memories in a constant loop to protect. That was training that was begun from early ages when parents would start expecting their children to focus only on a treat, moving it around as if training pets. When you started so young there was little reason to argue or resist and the groundwork was laid bare for the future. I wasn't very good at it, but I could lose myself in picturing the moving metal or my powers flowing through my first drawings, ever on a loop to repeat._

 _There was no keeping this hat out. Only the careful spell work of the Great Ones from before they had sent me here kept things that should not be known behind barriers. Dates, names, details of the future were locked up tight though I could still access them. None others could. It was truly the work of multiple masters of many different arts._

" _Oh... "The hat's voice seemed to..shiver? Curious. It sighed then. "Gryffindor for bravery, but no. You were taught to value times to act.." Well of course. Mastery of the level of power that allowed owning squibs usually meant vicious tempers to go with it, or harebrained behaviors but that wasn't tolerated much by Lord Faust. "Hmm a thirst for knowledge..for improvement..but no. that's very selective in you. Only what you feel you must know, or in a topic you wish to learn about..and only so long as it interests you. Slytherin? Yes. You were raised to be ambitious, to be cunning. You don't let people hold you back..you take chances as they benefit you while knowing when to bow and kneel to one who has more power, to cloak yourself in their favor to protect your own place...yet Hufflepuff..you are..so..very..loyal..?" Ah it sounded confused. Yes, I was loyal. But the only one I truly was loyal to was Fawkes. I suppose I was loyal to Lord Faust but it was because it just..he was. Existed. It was like trying to say you were loyal to the sun. I may not like my fate and my status often times but that wasn't the same. I wasn't loyal to Dumbledore but part of me had been bonded to Fawkes and so tightly that I would likely always at least think over what the man said. I had no one. I never had anyone, only those who would use me. So, yes. Fawkes._

" _No. Not Hufflepuff. They would be good for you though. Teach you loyalty."_

 _I wasn't so sure I wanted to learn that.._

" _Stall. I will evaluate her in a few weeks when she has adjusted." The hat had declared, much to Dumbledore's evident surprise._

A few weeks later and I knew the re-evaluation would be coming. I had no interest in being among the Red or the Blue, so it seemed I was destined to be clad in Green or Yellow. In truth, I was so familiar with the darkness, with how it worked that I wouldn't have minded. Yet, I knew in the end Hufflepuff would likely take care of me, from what I had learned of the house from Professor Sprout in the days when I helped her prepare for the coming year.

I just didn't know.

A beautiful golden song soothed me then and my eyes closed, my head tilting back as Fawkes seemed to float before me, perching nearby. I felt the familiar sharp pain his song brought me because of the bond that I would never truly have again with the beautiful creature. "Fawkes.." My voice was heartbroken and I couldn't help myself from reaching out to him.

This wasn't truly _my_ Fawkes. What had been of mine had merged into this one, taking our one of a kind union with him in his kaleidoscope merge. It didn't change my longing. The song occurred again, soothing even as it created cracks in my heart and I sighed softly, smiling. "I love you."

An answering trill.

Fawkes after all, was love as much as he was fire. Classified as a 'light and goodly' creature I had experienced the truth. Fire was destructive after all, Fawkes was just as much of death as rebirth. Melpomene was muse of beautiful songs but tragedy as well.

"Thank you." I trembled feeling Fawkes bend to rest his cheek against mine, the hollow aching loss of the bond I had formed with him still trying to reach for the firebird and always coming up empty. It was similar to my master bond as low as it had been, since I was unmatched and all, that had once been there for my Owner. A squib of my time wasn't meant to be without bonds. I felt so completely alone all the time. A tiny thread still reverberated with Fawkes's presence and I think it was keeping me sane.

"Any idea on the house situation I am going to end up in?" I kept my face by his, breathing in the crackling fire ember scent, the memory of EveryWhen haunting me beautifully. I didn't get an answer, but I didn't really expect to. So I continued. "I have no idea with Hufflepuff..but Slytherin, that can't be so different then the court back home and I know how to handle that..I you feel betrayed if I was there Fawkes? I was raised in the darkness, I know it, I .."

Another beautiful soft golden song that cleared my thoughts and had tears fall down my face.

"Yeah.."

Of course. Fawkes was reminding me that Life and Death were the same depending on when you called the moment.

"I guess we'll see, huh? Either I'll be a golden badger or ashes from a phoenix in a snake pit.." I giggled, drunk on the heady power of Fawkes's song. Another trill, this one amused came from Fawkes. I knew he'd get the reference. I also knew he understood my pledge of continued loyalty.

No matter what lay ahead, I was going to be loyal to Fawkes.

We had quite literally been through something no one else could understand.

And the most beautifully perfect part of it all, despite this being a lesser version of my Fawkes, is he didn't need me to change who I was. In simply being loyal to him I'd never do anything he wouldn't forgive me for, even if he knew I was innately drawn to the darkness. I'd been more in awe of Grindlewald's portrait then Dumbledore after all.

()()()()()()

In the end, I was clad in Black and Yellow. Some part of me felt a bit off, the court was all I knew really, but among the badgers I would start a new level of my life. At least they wouldn't be prone to duels at odd intervals so it was likely far safer for me to hide my lack of abilities. I was moved to the Hufflepuff dorms soon after, a second surprise was that Hufflepuff all had their own rooms. They were small and cozy and ever so beautifully done. It was warmth and wood hues, golden and butter sunshine instead of bright yellows. Greens from plants that trailed down from the wood beams, and living plant walls with fascinating climbing plants dotted the areas. The couches were plush and comfortable, rugs thick and with varying tapestry forms of leaves and woodland scenes. Helga was a respectable older name and the books in the common room's study- another change I heard from Professor Sprout was that we had our own study room that doubled as a space to grow specific plants for herbology- were all fascinating. They did more for helping me feel at home in this strange time then anything as they were often popular dog eared novels of the time period. My bed was simple, a queen sleigh bed as I had no reason for curtains, not sharing the room with anyone else. All of my gear and supplies was basic scholarship or found items by the houselves.

Dumbledore had positively _glowed_ he was twinkling so much when I was sorted into the badger's den. It was..peculiar. Of course Professor Sprout's enthusiasm had been rather pleasant. Slughorn had been a bit put out but when I mentioned somethings when helping to inventory-it hadn't occurred to me that most people wouldn't be aware of the old texts in Damant and Higgin's famous wizarding novel. The story was a classic Dark Court fable on how only in facing one's shadow self, could you advance. It was seen as a reason the dark had won at the time. The result, and my attempts at the most neutral responses I could manage, had still apparently been cunning and ambitious enough sounding Slughorn had begun to discuss politics and connections he had in the world. When I admitted the hat had trouble deciding between the two houses, paired with my love of potions, I seemed back in his good graces.

I was just fortunate I had quoted a fable that was _known_ in that time period.

Fawkes didn't seek me out often. Only when I felt stretched to far, too shaky. I was a squib with Talent from a time when there had always been at least a latent master bond. I relied on it, it had always been there to comfort me. Without it, sometimes I felt traumatized. I knew eventually I would seek out someone to protect me, to be the wizard or witch I would follow. It was just how I was raised, but this world did not see squib's being paired off with wizard's the same. I could have hoped and dreamed for a relationship with my future Wizarding husband whence I had come from. After all with the strange number of Talents I had, I would have been valuable breeder stock but far more so for the potential to produce stronger magical blood to a line. Here?

I was very nervous when the morning came for my future classmates were arriving and school would begin again.

()()()()()()

Amelia Bones a fellow Hufflepuff ended up taking me under her wing along with her friend Alice from Gryffindor. Alice was short and bubbly and full of joy, plopping right next to me and chattering as though we were old friends. It turned out she was cousins with an older student, Bertha. Both the Jorkin's were kind enough and somehow another student our age, Stebbins, had been roped into the study sessions. I didn't have any close friends though, but I liked my small group all the same.

I had a fake wand, well not entirely false. I could cast certain spells thanks to the runes inked into my flesh and bones. Standard spells, just enough that it would likely keep attention for a while. I preferred using other items as a focus to direct the forced access to my magical core, so my wand only appeared to be regular. In truth it had a slim metal core, one of my earliest forge tasks that I always had kept on me as a good luck charm, just reheated and stretched out like a long thing needle. Over that I had crafted and whittled a wooden 'wand' and sealed it on the bottom so the metal wouldn't fall out. It was in swirls and patterns I remembered from the fires of EveryWhen. Very subtle images were in the flames, only cast if the shadows and light hit the wand just so. Otherwise it was all hidden in the grains of wood. I'd chosen a rich red wood though I didn't know what the name of it was. It didn't really matter in the end.

When I used it for standard spells, I truly meant it. No shields or the like, I couldn't access my core enough for that as handy as it would have been. Lumos, Nox, that sort of paltry childish work. Tempus. Only things to make it where we were less helpless then Talented should be. In time if I learned enough of the runes I could probably figure out how to access more of the common spells but I knew what went into placing them on me to allow the forced connection to my magical core. It _hurt._ There was a reason we Talented didn't have all the potentially useful spells on us. The ache was always there when we called on it because our connection had to be forced, and then kept open. Sometimes it would hurt and ache like an actual wound.

Still being able to cast things that would be so common before long was a necessity that I was grateful to have the wand for misdirecting assumptions. I could be a terrible and weak witch, it would still be better then being a squib in these days. Ironically if I lost my wand in a fight or bullying because my runes were on me personally I'd be less helpless than the rest of my schoolmates. I just really hated using magic that drew on the markings, it _hurt._

I had wanted to take on the surname that Grindlewald had given me as a pet name, Vögelchen, but I didn't want it sullied and it would sound distinctly not American and entirely German at this point in time. Instead I had taken on the surname of my once overseer's rank and number for me after messing around with ways to mispronounce it.

4098u.

Four oh Nine Eight You. Foreignaiteu.. Forrownighateu? Fortenau. It had taken a long time to come to that name. Fortenau didn't sound the same, but like it had evolved. I had evolved. It had been my only label much of my life so I was content to cling to it in this place. Melpomene Fortenau. It was a mouthful. Almost everyone just called me Mel or Fortenau though so it was..tolerable.

I found that my ease from long years growing up in the Dark Court meant I was very good at not being noticed. There was some interest at first in the girl who had shown up for third year, but it faded swiftly. Apparently another boon to being a hufflepuff.

Perhaps the strangest bit though was from a few older students who had caught sight of me one day when I was working on inventory for Professor Slughorn on the weekend. Two red headed young men had slipped inside, going straight for the backup supply cupboard.

"That's not for free use." I said idly, continuing to measure out and package out gizzards from several bird species that sixth year was going to need for an upcoming potion.

The two had whirled, wands out and then just blinked at me.

I can't imagine why.

()()()()()

Fabian and Gideon Prewitt were many things. Pranksters, geniuses, confident Gryffindor golden boys who had been working on teaching the promising new second year named James Potter and his friends the joy of prank potions. They'd just needed to get a few things from Slughorn's stock to introduce the youngsters to the wonder of hair color potions as a prank. To be honest they had really thought the room would be empty.

Instead there was a slim form practically swallowed by her yellow and black scarf. Her hair was..intricate was the best way to put it. Mounds of golden brown and pale blonde twisted into a clearly elegant hairstyle that practically screamed pureblood. Yet her robes were worn and coarse standard scholarship fare, and she had on gloves even though they weren't needed for her current task. She glanced up at them, not having even reacted to their drawing wands and blinked once, blue gray eyes rimmed in gold around the pupil just eyed them casually.

"Bloody hell..what are you doing here?"

The girl shrugged but set aside her work. "I'm preparing ingredients for Professor Slughorn, clearly. You're breaking in."

"Well .."

There was a long pause and finally she sighed. "are you going to hex me, or leave like you are supposed to?"

The two exchanged a look and then went to pull chairs in front of her, staring. "You're new. I'm Fabian Prewitt.."

"Gideon. A pleasure to meet you miss..?"

"Melpomene Fortenau. By the way you're not going to convince me to pretend this didn't happen."

Well that was a surprise, usually the twin's could just smile and get someone to give in. Melpomene just shook her head, though her lips twisted up ever so slightly at the end.

"Not even for our pretty faces? We just need a few things.."

"It's very important we train a couple of ickle second years to know how to do color changing potions for hair, a right of passage for pranksters you may say."

"Go to Slughorn's office, knock, wait to be invited in..and then ask." Melpomene retorted. She paused then eying them. "He'd probably do it and give you extra credit. And for the record..you're not that pretty."

The two had chuckled and seeing it was a lost cause, went to try Slughorn.

()()()()()

It had worked, and as a result for some reason she'd become the occasional plaything/victim/sounding board that didn't ever actually say anything for the twins. Melpomene didn't really mind that much, as at least they were entertaining. Besides, once they realized that helping to prepare ingredients meant Slughorn was likely to let them have a few of the extras, well apparently their own mother had been a prankster and it was something of a Prewitt family tradition, right up there with the fiery tempers and coloring.

It wasn't anything she was alarmed over. The first half of the year came and went, and Melpomene's worries about fitting in were slowly easing. Her friends never really picked up on the fact she had no classes with actual wand use, as in the war time much as with Grindlewald years before scholarship students often couldn't afford all of the classes.

Come to think of it, no one had picked up on the fact that despite her always carrying her wand on her person, often with it resting beside her while she read, no one really seemed aware that the strange little American student had never been witnessed using magic. She brewed, she studied and turned in papers, she was hands on in many classes. Far more attention was given to the fact she always wore gloves. She'd simply sighed and explained to a concerned Amelia that her hands had been scarred badly when she was very young and she did not feel comfortable having the marks out for perusal. It was the truth, though she had carefully picked the terms so they would not be lies. Body language gave a great deal away, after all.

Still, Mel felt terrible that the crotchety man Filch was not someone she could share the subjects that a squib -could- do with. She felt it would have eased his temper a great deal.

It was, interestingly, Christmas that gave her trouble. For all that the wizarding world was called outdated in traditions by the muggleborn; Christianity had been around for two thousand years. Plenty still celebrated the old ways or called it Yule still, or Saturnalia, or half a dozen other names that existed for the various cultures.

Because of her upbringing, Lord Faust had always insisted only on the scientific and theoretically sound dates of Summer and Winter Solstice, and the spring and fall equinox as the main days of celebration. Besides his birthday, conquering dates which were celebrated in each captured nation as the 'day of salvation' and minor holidays of similar traits. None of these were days of gifts, in the traditional sense.

Her utter lack of knowledge in regards to Christmas had proven..peculiar.

Noticeably so.

"What do you mean you don't know about Christmas?!" Alice was flabbergasted, the petite little Gryffindor waving her hands around. "But, EVERYONE knows Christmas!"

"Well everyone heard you that's for certain.." Mel sighed, setting her book to one side of the table resigned in the realization this was probably going to be a mess. "I..look we just didn't have it growing up. "

"But the presents! And the Tree! And..you sing carols right? You tell stories?" Amelia had butted in at this, figuring her friend just was maybe from an older line. She didn't mention her history much, becoming uncomfortable and shy about it in a way that had Bones- her family having been Auror's since the position had been founded- convinced it hadn't been a very nice family. Undoubtedly pureblood. "Yule?"

"Ah. We didn't celebrate Yule. That's Celtic or Norse mostly..and having that celebration on American soil isn't really quite right. I wasn't native American so I didn't celebrate their seasonal days either.. it would be rather rude." Luckily everyone assumed when Melpomene said as much that it was because of the whole Pilgrams fiasco. While it was a good dose of truth, it was also because the spiritual nations had been refounded and brought into the fold by Lord Faust. The Native Nations had many of their original territories back, and had proven much less forgiving this time around. You did not claim any Indian traditions without being of the blood or much schooling, even joking about Medicine, or Totems was cause to be brought before the Tribal Elder's of the land you were nearest for recompensation. It was likely the reason Faust had gained control so swiftly, he'd seen a veritable untouched powerhouse in ancient magics the modern world had no comprehension of.

"I..okaaay..um..Saturnalia?"

"Not Italian, or Roman..or.."

"So you never gave presents?"

"On the Winter Solstice, to a few people sure but they were always something you made." Mel rubbed her nose with her glove. You gifted to the land on the spring and summer days, to your lessers..in otherwords to the mundanes and talentless squibs on the fall equinox. The only ones you gave to on the Winter Solstice was usually your superiors. Your master, your overseer, any instructors..it was a way of thanking them for what they gave to you. She'd already been making presents for Slughorn, Sprout, and Dumbledore. She had something very special she was working on for Fawkes..

"Well then, can you wait until Christmas for us to exchange our gifts? Mine wont be here for Solstice.." Alice commented and Mel froze, barely hiding her reaction to instead blink in 'thought'.

Oh. Apparently Christmas meant you gave things to your friends too?

"Ah, sure. What day is that?"

"The 25th. It's a few days after Solstice.."

Mel just nodded with a smile, it gave her time to think of what to make the others. The idea of buying something just..she couldn't do that. That was far too much of a change.

Not that she had the money to spare either. She had been pouring over the papers and was fully aware that for a squib there was very little work. She pinched her pennies and saved, the concept of having anything to actually save had taken some getting used to though. Any drop of coin she got from her little scholarship that was not needed, was carefully sent to Gringott's on a regular basis. She knew without a doubt that she would need to figure out something for summer. Dumbledore had covered for her the first few weeks of this year but it had been most extenuating circumstances.

It seemed she'd need to get drawing, luckily she could make due with ink and parchment. With any luck Dumbledore or Professor Flitwick will consent to do the charm that would bring the images to life for her. It was the only real thing she could think of as it was not as if she had the funds to go and get enough metal to actually shape anything for them.

()()()()()()()

Solstice, I had celebrated alone.

There was no way to explain my rituals and the like to my schoolmates, and so I had slipped out into the furthest borders of the school grounds. Stepping just out of the wards along the farthest from Hogsmeade location into the Scottish wilds. Breathing out softly my eyes had relaxed at the expanse of nothingness, I did no turn to look back at the castle. Instead I moved far into the expanse of wilds, until I knew the natural variation of the hills and stones around me would keep any prying eyes inside the school from catching sight.

Perhaps, in this era, rituals were extravagant. Lord Faust had insisted on otherwise. I had foods with me, all of which was either symbolic or just my favorites. That often was far more of importance to share what was favored by you then just what had been deemed symbolic by ancestors no one really knew. I had warm attire, the concept of going skyclad was frankly foolish especially when in areas so exposed to the elements. My skirts pooled around me as I sat on the thick blanket, my cloak tight around me near the fire I had built. I would be missed, no doubt, but as I did not share a room it would not be entirely impossible to sneak in or out. All one really had to do was mention Solstice and pull out what my year mates called 'puppy dog eyes' and it seemed all teachers would yield. It was..a strange thought.

I was no true witch. My magic was sealed from me save for force methods that would make the runes pull from my core in aching ways. And my gifts. I had been making much use of my artistic lesser base talent in the recent days in order to provide gifts for my new housemates and 'friends'. It was still such a foreign idea. An alliance that had no true mettle to it. I could not _trust_ that these friends of mine would be as loyal as they thought. They were to a one of the light's embrace after all. I knew of the loyalty those in the dark shadows of the Dark Court held. An oath was an oath unless it behooved one to break it for advantage. Breaking it would cost the oathbreaker a hefty price. My mind simply would not wrap around that which my companions clung to so easily. Logic and mental acceptance were one thing, but it would not defeat my years of experience and molding.

Instead I was out here alone, with only a small carefully hidden fire that I fed twigs and small bits of fabric I had coated in different minerals to change the flames to a lovely blue color. I didn't wish to see the red and gold, the sparks that would remind me of EveryWhen. Greens and blues would be my companions this night as I drew out the metal scraps and cast offs I had found. Apparently if you asked the house elves for such junk they were mighty helpful. Was it peculiar of me that I felt more in kinship with my brief moments speaking to the house elves then my house mates in the school? I was meant to serve a dark wizard, I was meant to have protectors and defenders in exchange for my servitude.

Closing my eyes, feeling the buzz of my senses as I let my eyes unfocus my fingers shifted along the course metal lumps.

It was solstice night.

I sang.

As always in the nevermore of my music Melpomene's legacy came to me. Tragedy only fed my gift and made it more beautiful. This was as it should be. I flourished under the canopy of stars only breaking the eternal darkness with small bits of light. Each enhancing the other. My heartbreaking tunes were moving in their despairing sorrow, the tragedies creating their own uplift. In the darkness and despair could be the seeds of the utmost beauty. I did not pay attention when my fingers sought from one finished shape to the next cold material waiting to be turned into something else. My songs continued. I was in a daze much as those I had often times witnessed at formal events that had imbibed far too much of my Master's beverages.

I felt the tingle in my toes, a languidness to my head and neck that rolled about on my shoulders. I took small moments to consume my meal, always leaving half to one third of my items that I would cast about. The best items, those I loved most, I would leave half out in the dishes I shaped for them. These were my offerings and I knew all evidence of the actual organic material would vanish in a few days. Not in a flash of magical acceptance but because the insects and mammalian and avian residents of the area would feast upon the unexpected bounty.

It was the act that mattered. The doing. The giving.

My eyes nearly closed several times as I lost myself into the magic bound haze of my talents. I gave myself over as I had not since I came there. The brief forays to create my false wand did not count for that was directed. Tiny figures and forms came from my scrap material without my conscious directives. The whimsey of each moment would instead alter what I was leaving behind. Perhaps the seeming innocuous gifts would be found by another student wandering. One who put much stock in materials and would find something I had made and read far too much into it. They would see it as a gift, perhaps from some patron spirit and it would warm them and make them create sweeping tales and generalizations.

It was the way so much often was.

After dawn crept it's way there I set aside the last of my food I had smuggled..much of it fruit so I would have less need for fluids. Wrapping myself into the blanket I had been sitting on I gathered the remainder of my creations, those that were not being simply left there for finding by whomever went into my basket I had brought my meal in.

After all, keeping any of the items save for those meant for a gift was pointless. The creation was the act of reverence, and I felt dazed and exhausted from the process.

Anything not meant for a specific person I just left.

The sacrifice of the rest of my crafts was my own thanks for the Talents I have.

*(*(*(*(*(


	3. Chapter 3

I had been given practical gifts from my friends, thankfully. Amelia had a better robe for me which if the house crest was removed did just fine as a thick coat and I knew would be essentially for as long as it fit me. She'd been delighted by the illustration of her favorite tale of The Lady of Rohan, having told me of the author Tolkein's epic tales a few times. There had apparently been quite a furor over his tales until someone had read them and realized whilst he had likely known a wizard or two to base the Gandalf character on, or perhaps the elves as they were arguably the most magical seeming lot, they were entirely muggle conjecture. A few unexplainable instances given to making an entire saga from whole cloth. Truly it sounded like a series I would enjoy reading some day.

Various other clothing items came from the others, indeed I was surprised to learn that in Hufflepuff it was expected to give and get from the house entire without the exchange of names to make certain everyone had an assortment and spent a few nights making a painting of a stylized badger for the common room after the inundation of everything from socks to gloves and hats that were sorely needed by my threadbare house elf found castaway garments to block the bitter winter cold. Gloves were the most common, and a wonderful gift so I could continue to hide my hands with their runes.

Curiously, after the excitement of the Holiday it seemed everyone was almost in a depression for a time, shuffling from class to class with sighs and pouts as though the 'magic of Christmas' had made them forget magic entirely!

What strange people, these Witches and Wizards of so long ago are to my eyes.

()()()()()

Spring fell into the first signs of summer and my days were an unending fog of the same. I was beginning to feel smothered in cloth, as though it pressed against my nose and lips to stifle my intake of oxygen. I needed to get out, to sing. I hadn't since the Solstice and my Talent was itching, crying from the very core of my being. However, unlike around the Solstice when it was dark and quiet the chill herding everyone indoors, the weather now was warm enough that there was a great chance of being found.

Stifle-fits we had called them, common when one could not make the time to address their Talent's and in the beginning, were it not for my month in the museum and singing with Fawkes for the portraits no doubt I would have had a few then. However, for all I had side stepped time and place playing battery for a firebird eventually the lack of output of my Talent would catch up to me. I could draw constantly, indeed a few teachers had even huffed and taken points for 'incessant doodling Miss Fortenau!" but Minerva kept the feline themed ones, so I don't think she truly minded. A Gryffindor thing mayhaps. Potions I worked with even if only regimented and controlled and my shaping of materials was something I would do idly when alone, sitting on my bed and reading my History books as I tugged and pulled at the metal as though it were clay never allowing it to actually create anything. I was at the saturation point for now.

But my voice? It had ripped open during the death of my loved ones and manifested anew in me, such Talents were pinnacle's and to be honored and honed at every chance. Were I still 'home' I would have been encouraged to sing as often as I was able while never straining myself. I would have been performing as frequently as my master desired and no doubt having contracts of to whom I would be sent, properly bonded to a family either as concubine or just the Squib with a purpose for formal events and later matched with another Talented. Yet I would be fully bonded by now and the siphon that would create such a thing, the easing of the pressure, was not there.

My song was burning me from the inside. I hadn't expected the fit. So I found myself clawing at my skin through my robes, thankfully my thicker ones that kept me from damaging myself much though I could feel scraped skin still, clenched teeth and aching jaw as my breath came in short and shallow. My heartbeat pounding in my ears had become a drum. I needed out! I needed..I needed..

Melpomene shrieking like a banshee where no one could hear her inside of me at the lack of expression was causing a build up of pressure in my core. This made every one of my runes branded into my flesh feel like scabs ripped open once more and salt water poured over me. I may have been crying, I couldn't tell as I suffered.

The problem with the fits is when they begin you can only ride them out. The surge in our core levels without the gentle usual siphoning off a witch or wizard would experience casting spells. They became restless or angered they'd have accidental magic. Nothing happened with a squib beyond an increase in temper or nervous behavior. Unless they'd had runes placed to wedge open gaping holes to access their cores and mark them. Then the build up would flow out but the runes were meant to prevent accidental use and so it would turn it back. An agonizing battering at the gates that would continue until that instinct even for squibs in small trickles to start healing the damage to the core finally would relieve the pressure.

The very marks that let me cast a few spells, though would always cause me pain, were acting as if they were infected and bleeding at the moment and leaving me a wreck as I tried not to pass out.

If I'd been bound to a master the excess magic would have seeped into that bond and the fits would have ceased. Such a small increase that it wouldn't even have registered to them, like a sneeze. I hadn't had one in years, only when I was a child and had yet to realize that my urges to mess with a few things were actually my talent but the runes were still new then.

My dam had not touched me then, just spoke, softly, evenly, but I had never known what she was saying. Much as I didn't know what was being said or could even make out the voice as someone knelt near me, my hands clamped over my ears and eyes tight.

Eventually, magic struck at me and sent me unconscious.

()()()()()()()()

In one of the beds deep within the hospital wing a young girl lay sleeping. A rough nightgown that covered her from wrist to mid throat and down to her ankles covered her and a pair of sleeping gloves preserved her privacy to hide away the silver brands that coated the back of her fingers and hands. Her hair had been plaited much more simply into two braids on either side of her head with a precision that gave evidence to the spell used to do such. Still as she remained, only a faint twitch here and there, was the slightest sign that the dreamless sleep was not entirely effective.

Dumbledore had sworn the Madame and her young assistant Poppy to secrecy, fortunately something that fell neatly under their healers oaths to not mention any markings found upon the slip of a girl. Indeed, Dumbledore did not know what to think of the fact that one of Slughorn's house had found her, and whilst they had alerted their head of house that same student had thought nothing of leaving a clearly traumatized girl alone in the hallway during the process. Sighing, the Headmaster knew he could not save them all. Indeed, that the Slytherin had even reported what they had found was no small feat and yet the motivation had doubtlessly been the heaping of points that followed. Emeralds tumbling freely into the Slytherin house container for assisting a student in need. Even if it was an older student from Hufflepuff who had found her and sent her unconscious with a stunner before scooping the young one up and carrying her to the infirmary. That one, Dumbledore had been proud to give points to. The young man had seemed almost insulted at the idea he wouldn't help one in need, especially a fellow badger. Hufflepuff. Such an underrated group.

Fawkes, unsurprisingly, was perched on the headboard where the child slept, crooning softly to help assist in keeping the girl asleep as by simple misfortune her lack of accessing her core meant the potion did not exactly work. Still, the ruse was perfected by Fawke's efforts and none would know it was the nearby presence of the Phoenix keeping the girl so relaxed as to sleep after her ordeal. The memories brought forth were by design, nonexistent. Rather he had developed exceptionally strong hunches about things so he could not accidentally mislead himself or others as a result of his spell. From the recollection though of nigh six months ago, Dumbledore knew the slip of a child resting before him had given up everything for but a chance. A misguided one perhaps as she would never find peace in a world that despised what she was but a chance regardless.

Considering that even now Fawkes softly crooned and sang to help her sleep, long neck gracefully stretched out to all but whisper his song into her ear, Dumbledore could easily surmise that she was at her core a good person. Even if she did not know that. Indeed, she'd been so very..well..Hufflepuff..and vanished into her house. Slughorn liked her, Sprout was often twittering about her student that helped even with soil and fertilizer on the sides, and she'd slowly been being pulled into a group composed of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students that were firmly on the light side. Dumbledore just hoped somehow the topic of Summer came up and one of the families would take her in. He could not house the girl over summer, nor did he feel at ease dumping her in an orphanage. Not when her coping skills with even modern Wizarding society seemed strained at the best of times.

Yet, what did one do with a Squib in hiding?

()()()()()()()()


End file.
